#I'm thinking about a sequel

[imagineaspen]

Just wanted to let everyone know that my Echoes of Wisdom fic, An Unlikely Alliance, is now complete!

An Unlikely Alliance (39050 words) by imagineaspen

Chapters: 14/14

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Ganondorf/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)

Characters: Ganondorf (Legend of Zelda), Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Tri (Legend of Zelda)

Additional Tags: Humor, Spoilers for Echoes of Wisdom (Legend of Zelda), Fluff, Amnesia, Eventual Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary:

Zelda saves a blue monster in a rift.

[nightlight-stardust-and-rain]

Watched The Old Guard again and obviously I am still so in love with Joe's poetic streak but consider : him turning it towards other people than Nicky (platonically... Or not if you ship them poly). Telling Booker that his smile is like the sun after the rain, telling Andy that her eyes are galaxies that humans have not yet discovered, telling Quynh that her laugh is like the bells you hear after you win a war, telling Nile that her voice is like resting quietly when you're tired of the world. Joe being sappy with his family!!

[maingh0st]

i know i'm not the first to say this, but the acolyte's cancellation has confirmed how tired i am of disney's decision-making when it comes to their content. i know nostalgia is the easiest way to a big payout, but we can only take so many spinoffs before the universe starts to feel too small. but then fresh content—content that's building on the canon by looking to old star wars lore while asking new questions—fizzles out.

it's the sequel trilogy all over again. we're promised something new, something that actually expands the canon rather than just recycling it, even bringing in concepts from legends, and then the rug is ripped out from underneath us & we're punished for ever caring about any of it. silly babygirl! palpatine was always the big bad (don't worry about the fact that this is thematically nonsense and not foreshadowed in any way), and rey isn't a nobody ("your parents sold you because they loved you"), and this isn't a story about how the force transcends human categories and dynasties (represented by a grey jedi force dyad between a legacy skywalker and a nobody orphan from a backwater planet, fulfilling not only balance between light and dark but also transcending the old to become something new). silly idiot!!! rey's a palpatine by birth and a skywalker by self-adoption and god forbid she create her own identity outside of these names our fans recognize. watch as she stands alone on a sand planet that has no personal significance to her, ending her arc almost exactly as she began. but look!! two suns! neat

i don't even know if fanservice is the right word. at a certain point, it just starts to feel like they're quaking in their boots at the thought of doing anything new. i had my gripes with some of the choices in the acolyte, but at least it was unique. it explored a new era and asked questions that star wars has only ever flirted with. like: what happens to the children who are uprooted from their homes at such a young age, yet can't find their place in the jedi order? how does one survive in a supposedly honorable system that nevertheless relies on the repression of some of humanity's most fundamental emotions? is it possible that an organization dictating exactly how one ought to interact with the very life force of the universe... could perhaps be faulty and shortsighted? what happens when the ways of that order clash with other cultures and worldviews? (spoilers: space colonialism). and that's not even to mention the ideas they play with re: the force itself (vergences! plagueis! force witches!)

i know not everyone loved the show, but a lot of people really did care about it. a lot of people, like me, were excited to see these new questions being raised. but forget it—the disney gods have decreed that it didn't hit some magical threshold of streaming hours or reach a "broad enough" audience in the two months it's been out. but don't worry guys. turn your brains off and tune in for the next spinoff 2 chewy 2 bacca

[ruporas]

only human

[ID: Two page comic in color of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The first page has a black background and the upper half, behind the panels, is splattered with stylized red blood, scattered bullets, and lifeless hands. In the first panel, it focuses on Vash's boots, showing him stepping through the panel and into the bloody scene. The second panel shows his bloody footprints and the third panel shows his face, his down-turned eyes looking downwards. It's a neutral, vague expression with confliction. At the bottom of the page, the back of Wolfwood's head and shoulder is seen, blood dirtying the white color of his shirt and side of his face. Vash's hand reaches out to him from the right side of the page.

The second page shows the entire scene in full, half the page in light and the other in solid black. At the center, Vash leans down onto his knees as he wraps his arms around Wolfwood's shoulders into a hug. Wolfwood's back is turned away from the viewer, his left arm holds onto his bloodied punisher and his right hand sits on his lap. Light casts from the left side of the page, showing the bloodied surrounding, but the held up punisher casts a shadow on the both of them, shielding them from the light. END ID]

[impactrueno]

(i got this comment on my comic over at twitter and i thought i'd repost my response here too, because i've gotten similar comments on my other socials)

these are very kind words and i accept the compliment, it makes me happy to see people are enjoying reading through it! but i have to disagree with a couple of things. i think we need to give more credit to the source material here

i am borrowing elements from the sequel. lydia's daugther, beetlejuice and lydia not seeing each other in 30 years, lydia forgetting somewhere along the way what it means to be your strange and unusual self, all of these are parallels i made to the sequel.

i strongly disagree this is how the sequel should've been done. i try to stick to canon as much as i possibly can, but the tone of this comic isn't really beetlejuice. the movie is a dark comedy first and foremost, and the sequel ticked almost every box of what it should be about

beetlejuice's character is gross and weird of course, but every iteration has depth to them. i wouldn't have been able to write this comic otherwise! i'm not really making up BJ's personality here, i'm doing a character study of what is already there, set to a different tone.

i'm saying all this because knowing this is important in order to really appreciate the story i'm presenting. there's no need to praise things i didn't actually do, haha.

i'm aware that there's many people enjoying it without knowing anything about beetlejuice, so i'm not saying you HAVE to be connoisseur or anything. but if you are, you'd notice the callbacks to the show, including the one episode a lot of this conversation is built around.

sorry this got longwinded; i want to say once again that i appreciate the comment! i mean absolutely no offense to Timmy here, it was a sweet thing to say and i hope it's okay that i used this comment as a springboard to say some stuff that's been on my mind

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[joblessquinoa]

Me watching ULS: wow Hotae is so intense, I wonder what his deal is

Me revisiting ULS after watching TTOF: Hotae has experienced levels of yearning and desperation previously unknown to man. All things considered, he's handling it pretty well

[starrycassi]

I think Andrew Minyard, eventually, becomes a legend on campus. He was one, already — warnings and whispered rumours, fear and twister wonder. He evolves.

It starts in his third year. There's a giggling girl, slumped down in the curb of the science building, and he's back from the computer lab (Because he's trying to care. To get better grades. To put in the work). He's smoking. There was (is?) a party going on, somewhere on campus. He doesn't care about it for anything else than knowing that Dan, Matt, Nicky and Reynolds are there. It's quite warm, they're just back from summer break, and he's slow when it's too warm. That's how he notices — the idiot who creeps up behind her. She's laughing at nothing, and the guy is clearly strong enough to carry her. He moves her head, positions her to be lifted, while she stammers incoherent denials, humor dying in her throat as horror creeps up. He puts a big, calloused hand over her tights, and she tries to back up. It's useless.

Maybe Andrew wouldn't intervene. Maybe he wouldn't, if the guy didn't look up at him. There's no shame. They make eye contact, and the man winks, pride written all over his face. He nods to Andrew, who nods back.

"We can take turns." He says, grinning under the moonlight, waving his hand at Andrew, inviting him closer. He resembles Drake, in a way. Andrew accepts.

The guy tries to press charges for his broken bones. Neil's uncle wipes out one of his fancy lawyers and the camera footage. Andrew is forgiven and (in a bizarre change of routine) praised by the jury.

Turns out the girl is one of those horrid Vixens. Katelyn thanks him and he pretends to be deaf. The whole team takes to cheering even harder whenever he blocks a goal, in the next games. The one from that night flies and twirls in the air, even going as far as calling out his name and a platitude of generic chants. Someone asks Andrew if she's his girlfriend. He genuinely considers murder.

It dies down. Selena (the annoying Vixen) keeps on her enthusiasm, making Neil tease him about his first die-hard fan and how jealous he is, of his now growing career. Andrew shuts him up with a kiss.

Then, he's with Kevin and Neil. Or, well, him and Neil are trailing behind Kevin, who's jogging to the Library to print a last-minute change on his cover page (forgot that his last name is now legally Wymack, the idiot) because Kevin is still too scared to be completely alone, sometimes.

There's a muffled sound. Then,

"Com'on, pretty girl. You're too cute for that gay shit. I'll make you feel goood."

"Fuck no. Kevin, run."

Neil is fast. Everyone knows that. People tend to forget just how fast he is. He's out of Andrew's side in a blink, then, Kevin's following. Kevin is an egocentric idiot, but he's been getting better, at this whole "caring about others" thing. At least ever since Jean and him had a screaming match over the phone.

Andrew doesn't hurry — Neil can stand his ground. Kevin is not completely useless. The cries he can hear are of strange voices. When he arrives, there's two guys on the floor. Neil has a knife shoved against one of their necks (right next to an artery) and Kevin is putting those hours of weight lifting to work, pinning the body to the floor.

The girl runs to Andrew's side, clinging to his arm. He shoves her, immediately. With fearful eyes, she seems to take a second to recognize him. When she does, she goes to stand behind his back.

As if Andrew can bring safety to someone. To an unknown someone, at that.

She accompanies them to the library, sticking to Kevin's side, hanging onto his arm. To his credit, Kevin only talks about Sexy for half the walk, and it seems to soothe her. When they're there, she offers her printing credits to the idiot.

Neil is seething. He calls his uncle, who sends his fancy hired muscle. If some people get a very strange and unfortunate mugging accident that same week, well, Andrew has a very strong alibi.

It becomes ridiculous, however, in the last days of the semester. Farewell is being celebrated. He asked Neil (because he's trying to care about things) if he wanted to go.

They were, clearly, not going.

They do go out. They take the Maserati and eat in a shitty restaurant, silent in a way that they can only be with each other.

It's when they're coming back when they spot the group. Four girls, heels in hands and wobbly knees. They're in the middle of the road. It's not a very concurred road. Two of them are carrying one, while the other leads the group. In their time together, Andrew has learned that Neil likes women more than men. There's also that deeply ingrained sense of guilt over his mother, that makes him favour them. It's Neil who says,

"Slow down. Make sure you don't run them over."

It's Andrew's mind that provides him with the detail. He recognizes that ponytail.

Carla, it tells him. From Experimental Psychology. She doesn't drink. She cried after the Little Albert chapter. She chastised her seatmate when she tried to touch Andrew's hair.

She doesn't drink. First night out? Could be. A lightweight with no tolerance and no frame of reference. Would that explain why she's on pajamas? Too inexperienced — or uncaring — in what to wear in a night out?

There's silence in the car. He slows down. Neil, who seems to be able to read Andrew in a way that not even Andrew can, asks him if they should give them a ride. Andrew agrees.

Neil is the one who tells them to get in. Carla is the almost-passed-out one. They all hurry inside after a few seconds of whispered shouting between each other. They're almost a mile away from campus, as is. Andrew isn't even quite sure how they ended up here.

He asks them.

"We were on the bus — yes. The bus? For the party." Greens dress says. "It left from the main gate. At, like, ten, I think. What time is it? Who cares. Yeah. No. On the bus."

"And he said- he was... On the bus, with us. He was bragging, y'know? 'Bout getting laid. We didn't care. He's an idiot — all the guys on the football team are."

"Ronnie was not." Pink dress tells Blue dress. "But yeah — he's. And then, at the party — we'r drinkin', yeah? We're the powerpul- powerpuff girls, see? I'm Bubbles. Wait, no, Am not. Blossom, yeah?."

"POINT IS, at the party, we see Carla. You know her? We do. She's in that chess club. They play chess. My roomie's in it. Chess club girls don't drink, I tell you. So, I go. And I ask her why she's here. Poor girl couldn't speak, see? "

"She was on the sofa, right?"

"You're telling it wrong. She was in the bathroom, puking up. Had her phone on the floor, 'member?"

"Ah, yes! And we ask her — we ask her who she's with, and she says, she says that she doesn't remember. And she tells me... Tell me, hey, isn't this a McDonald's? And I laughed, and she said 'no, he said we're going to McDonald's' and I stopped laughing because she puked again."

"No, no. She was on the sofa, and you made her puke, imbecile. You said she was roofied, 'member?"

"Yeah, that's it! I know. They did it to... To Reynolds, yeah? She made us learn the signs 'n all, after."

"We get out of there, and a guy says- says he'll take us to the hospital, you know? We noticed we weren't going to any fucking 'spital and made him leave us where you found us. Should've known to never trust a man, yeah?"

They keep on bickering. Neil and Andrew share a look, before Neil takes out his cellphone to call Renee. The Powerpuff girls and Carla are hauled up to Fox Tower after a quick "chat" with the RA. Andrew refuses to touch them. Dan, Reynolds, Renee and Matt do all the hard work.

One week later, there's a knock on the door and someone calling his name. When he leaves his room and opens, a tray of what smells like freshly baked cookies sits neatly on the floor.

He pretends not to see Carla's face peeking around the hallway.

[faelapis]

i feel like i'm in at a lonely table for one here... but i don't want any SU continuity to be a prequel. and i think some people who want a prequel, haven't really thought through what that would look like.

either a war prequel or a rose quartz prequel would end up as a huge downer. the steven/post-steven era is the only one that has any HOPE for the vast majority of the characters.

idk. i feel like if you really want flashbacks, there's nothing STOPPING a post-SU future series (whether an anthology series or a new main character) from having flashbacks. maybe pearl's the main character for an episode, and its mostly her telling old war stories. maybe bismuth and garnet finally have that beta raid flashback.

but if you set it in the past, definitively, then its going to be a bummer. because all the characters end up corrupted, shattered, deeply traumatized, or fleeing to homeworld. nobody feels like a winner right after the war. not a single character.

most gems are only beginning to heal from it now.

SU, thematically, has always focused on the possibility of hope and change. that's only possible in the future, not the past.

you want lore? you can have that in an anthology or post-future series. there is nothing stopping peridot or the diamonds from having a "explaining gem origins and religion" ep. you want action sequences? again, pearl can narrative war flashbacks, or we can even set an anthology episode in the past proper. or have a new conflict!

personally, i don't see a reason to set it only in the past. that's just an unnecessary limit on the stories you're able to tell.

[meraki-yao]

Watching Agatha All Along again after giving up on Marvel for three years made me think about why I gave it up in the first place.

I was so deep in the MCU. I cried so much during Infinity War that I struggled to walk out of the cinema. I watched Endgame on the first day that it was released. My diary was a CACW notebook. Part of the reason I took up STEM subjects was because of Marvel.

And then after watching MoM in theatres, I stopped.

I'm trying to phrase and figure out what made me give up something I was so invested in, something I loved so much. I think I know why.

The MCU period I was active in gave me characters that I ended up loving, and the later period took them away.

My two favourite characters were ruined. Their character arcs and core characters undone. I'm worried about my favourite too.

I hate it when the sequel undermines the previous works.

When I think of Steve Rogers, I don't think of the guy who chose to either fuck up the entire timeline of the MCU or sat quietly and watch the world in turmoil, his allies die tragically, and his best friend left to a fate worst than dead to get with a girl he wasn't even dating, a woman who had a life of her own and moved on.

I think of Steve from CATWS, the guy from Brooklyn who still does the right thing in a time when morals are blurred. The Steve who is kind, compassionate and brave. The Steve who inspired the base-level employees of SHEILD to follow his example and not bow down in the face of tyranny. The Steve who just had one mission, and that was standing up to bullies.

When I think of Wanda, I don't think of the insane, manic witch/evil goddess who killed thousands mercilessly even though there was a harmless solution, who after all she lost, somehow only wanted her children who she had for three days instead of also her love and her twin.

I think of Wanda, the girl who lost it all, who's family was all killed, who was denied a burial for Vision, who was left alone and abandoned in the world, with so much love in her heart that no longer had a place, a person to go to. The girl who feels so much so deeply that it bended reality. The girl who had to learn, who had to give up her dream, but did so, because at the end of the day, she is a kind person, who doesn't want to hurt people. She was wrong, she takes time to understand and accept the harm she's caused (as we all do), and then makes it right. She tries to be good. Despite everything, she tries.

The later stages of MCU took these two characters that mean so much to me personally, and ruined them.

And I'm fucking mad at them, because it disrespected all the work that made me love them in the first place, and it was preventable. (The original script for MoM where Wanda helps Strange but repeatedly gets tempted by the Darkhold is a much more convincing narrative.)

And I'd say the same applies to others: Natasha, Thor, Bruce, even Strange (although I feel like they never really figured out what they wanted to do with Strange's character)

I miss my characters, I miss my MCU.

[the-starry-seas]

in the sequel trilogy that exists in my head. luke woke up to find the school under attack and went to wake ben up, with his saber drawn because they were about to have to fight for their lives. and ben assumed that luke was there to kill him in cold blood, because a lifetime of sith whisperings will do that to you.

"i saw what could have been a threat, jumped to conclusions, became violent, and put myself onto a trajectory to disaster that would have been avoided if i paused for five seconds" is dare i say a quintessential sith origin story

and that makes luke's isolation make more sense to me. "i followed an impulse that led to disaster and learned from my lesson" is a consistent theme in star wars. poe's mutiny in the same trilogy is given like thirty seconds of consequences before everyone's fine with him again. but "my nephew immediately assumed that i wanted to murder him in cold blood, which prompted him to murder me and a bunch of kids" is the kind of shit that would haunt anyone

[avocadohass]

I will be living out my life and suddenly Im like "wow we actually got the trojan/jerejean sequel"

Because for years it was such a crack random thought, a truly hopeless dream because in the main series there were absolutely NO HITS.

It was just a wild manifestation of a bunch of fans that REALLY loved side characters, and I can say it because after reading aftg in 2016 my favorite character was fucking Jeremy, so I know what I'm talking about it okey.

I been in a state of shock since it was announced, and even after I read it, that just now while we wait for the golden raven it just hit me like we actually getting a trojan trilogy A JEREJEAN TRILOGY LIKE????

I remember I found out about jerejean after reading the jean extra content, and thinking that he needed something good in his life and immediately seeing that people ship him with Jeremy, a character who he never interact with in canon but was probably gonna in the future and I was like "that makes so much sense" and this was when there were like barely fics of them

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I cannot believe that saying "the trojan sequel" isn't synonyms of impossible dream anymore

[cyanocophrenic]

Sweets (1/?)

The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.

Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?

She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.

Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.

The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.

Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.

How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.

She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.

As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.

No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.

Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.

Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?

As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!

Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?

No such luck.

The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.

"There you are!"

She struggled to stand. So tight.

"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"

Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?

"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."

She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.

"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.

"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.

"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.

"Um! Okay!" What.

The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.

What was going on here? She could barely think.

The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."

"Um..."

There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.

The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?

"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.

"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."

The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.

As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"

On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"

The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"

She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.

Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.

"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.

"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.

They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?

By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.

As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.

Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.

The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.

"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.

Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.

"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"

She chewed and swallowed the treat.

Uh oh.

[rosencrantzsguildenstern]

Best Shakespeare Adaptation

since the 1600s, people have been rewriting shakespeare and writing spinoffs in good, bad, and frankly just kind of insane ways. today, they will compete until only one is left standing!

during the poll craze i ran a lot of brackets and had fun, but ended up with a couple spare blogs i ended up having to delete, so i'm running this one off my main.

q. is this a tournament for productions or adaptations?

a. adaptations! stuff that changes dialogue or medium (beyond play -> movie) or takes a really new spin on it! west side story counts, romeo and juliet (1996) doesn't.

q. will there be a limit on contestants?

i'll cut it at 64 or 32 depending on how many submissions we get! if we get a lot of adaptations of a few plays and less of others, i won't cut any of them out, but i'll make some of them face off in round one

q. are you biased?

yes. fortinbras sweep. i've been reading 'these violent delights' too and it's pretty good. oh and can't forget haider, and requiem of the rose king is an all timer... basically, yes i really like rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead, but i have much room in my heart

q. is it most best portrayal/analysis, or best on its own merits?

a. a little of both, but mostly the latter

q. does [x thing] (that's pretty different than the original inspiration) count?

a. if it is common knowledge that it's shakespeare inspired

q. does the lion king count?

a. yea

signal boosting! if yall great bracket blogs will help out @gayest-classiclit @byronicherobracket (this one's still in qualifiers, it seems cool!) @straightplayshowdown (this one's getting going again!) @bestadaptationtournament @gayestshakespearecouples

[shittysawtraps]

saw sequel set in the future. humanity has fallen. most arable land in the world is covered in plastic pollution. corrupt politicians halt recycling efforts in order to control the food supply. the people cry out for a hero to do something with all the plastic and punish the rich for their crimes. out from the shadows emerges.... cyberjigsaw...

[misc-obeyme]

My goal this weekend is to get caught back up on lessons... I am like three or so behind it's a real problem.

Also... in case you were all wondering... the writing has commenced. Expect new fics soon.

Oh yeah and I think that poll I started is still going, but like obviously the Solomon stories are winning. Last I checked, the one that I listed as "takes place in Cocytus Hall" is the one that's winning, but it's really close. I might just write them both anyway, we'll see.

Also also I've been... thinking about... my other OCs... I want to write x reader stories for more of them now ad;lkfj. I think they would be like alternate timelines from Unchained so the stories would be drastically different, but they would still include the same characters. I haven't started this yet or anything just something I've been thinking about~

I didn't mean for this to become a mini writing update but here we are lol.